


Bacchic Jealousy

by AriWrote



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Excessive Drinking, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Canon, Ryoma laughs in his face, Xander tries to make this angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriWrote/pseuds/AriWrote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even from Xander’s position he can see the way she’s practically throwing herself at Ryoma. It’s the flirtations of a noblewoman, all prim and proper until there is no one to impress. Xander’s all too familiar with it. He wonders if Ryoma is still unaware of what’s going on, if the Hoshidan court is truly that different that even he couldn’t tell, or if he’s acknowledged his role and is playing along.<br/>-<br/>A party is thrown in Windmire to honor the peace between Nohr and Hoshido. Xander's having difficulty enjoying it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bacchic Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> This took so long to name and it's not even that witty. This was inspired by a prompt I received on my tumblr.

It was almost startling how easy the Hoshidan royals fit in with the various nobles that remained in the Nohrian court. Xander, and to be honest the rest of his family, had assumed that they’d find it difficult to mingle among those they’d once seen as enemies. Even if the tension had eased among the two armies, a soldier you’ve fought alongside could hardly prepare one for some noble woman who seemed incapable of understanding the basic concept of personal space.

Xander swallows the dregs of his wine and slams the glass onto the table to join its brethren. A part of Xander knows it’s shameful, the way he’s acting. He’s the crown prince and now with his father gone (the memory still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth) there is very little keeping him away from the title of king. It’s only his own hesitation and whatever flimsy excuse he can come up with to further postpone the coronation that keeps him from the throne.

Xander can’t help but let those thoughts sink in. He should be acting more… more. He shouldn’t be hiding out in a corner of the room that eyes rarely fell upon, eagerly searching the floor for a waiter that wouldn’t judge him too badly when they noticed the number of glasses littering the table Xander had claimed.  At the very least, Xander was glad that no one had come searching for him. Everyone was more inclined to socialize with the guests of honor.

Speaking of… Xander flinches and redoubles his efforts to search for a non-judgmental waiter when he hears an all too familiar laughter. Instead of a waiter, his eyes find Ryoma deep in conversation with some woman (Lady Noelle of… something? Xander thinks. All he can recall of the family is that’d he heard rumors of the Marquess’s awful gambling practices and the Marchioness’s tendency towards affairs. He couldn’t recall if they’d had a daughter or if this was the Marchioness herself). Even from Xander’s position he can see the way she’s practically throwing herself at Ryoma. It’s the flirtations of a noblewoman, all prim and proper until there is no one to impress. Xander’s all too familiar with it. He wonders if Ryoma is still unaware of what’s going on, if the Hoshidan court is truly that different that even he couldn’t tell, or if he’s acknowledged his role and is playing along.

Xander tears his eyes from the scene long enough to spot a waiter passing close by. He waves him down and avoids making eye contact as he plucks a glass from the serving tray. Another laugh makes him take another glass. He’s thankful as the waiter remains silent, and even deigns to remove a few of the glasses cluttering the table. He sets down the second glass and gets to work on the first.

Xander is no longer trying to delude himself into believing the wine is nothing more than a social drink. It stopped being social when he first holed himself away to nurse his fourth glass without having to worry about the pitying eyes of his sister. He can barely taste the wine anymore, but what you’re drinking doesn’t matter when your goal is to get drunk.

Because Xander hates himself, he searches once more for Ryoma and the noblewoman. He finds her talking to someone else, but he can’t find Ryoma at all. He should have stood out among the crowd, but as Xander’s eyes scan the crowd he finds nothing. Had he gone out for fresh air? Or had-

The sound of someone clearing their throat cut off that particularly dangerous thought before Xander can even allow himself to drown in it. Xander glances over, and he finds the very man he’d been searching for.

“So this is where you’ve hidden yourself away, Prince Xander,” Ryoma says, the smirk on his face only growing wider. His eyes are bright and clear. Xander doubts he’s had any of the wine offered.

Xander only grunts in response, not trusting his tongue to not reveal more than Xander wants. Ryoma shakes his head as if Xander had spoken more. Then he’s leaning forward, close enough that Xander can smell the soap Ryoma uses: light and fresh, something citrus that Xander can never tell if he loves or hates.

Xander only faintly registers as Ryoma plucks the wine glass from his fingers, instead of the one sitting forgotten on the table. He takes a sip and maintains eye contact with Xander all the while, an action that Xander might have seen as a challenge if he wasn’t seeing the world through a wine-induced haze.

Ryoma scrunches up his nose in response to the sip, but doesn’t hand the glass back to Xander, “Gods, I doubt I’ll ever be able to get used to what you Nohrians try to pass off as wine.”

“What we Nohrians pass off as wine is perfectly acceptable,” Xander replies, his silence at last broken in favor of rebutting the subtle dig.

“I can tell that you certainly accept it,” Ryoma says, eyeing the glasses remaining on the table as well as the one still in his hands. He doesn’t seem to being making any effort to return the glass. A lesser part of Xander would have snatched the glass back from him. Instead he picks up the second, nearly forgotten glass on the table and ignores the frown that graces Ryoma’s face. He doesn’t need another reminder of how he disappoints.

“How many have you had?” Ryoma leans forward and places a hand on Xander’s knee. Xander can’t help the way his breath catches in his throat.

“Doesn’t matter. What happened to your conversation with the Marchioness?” He’d meant to divert attention from himself by changing the topic, but the bitterness he’d be harboring since he first noticed how well Ryoma got on with the noblewomen of the court seeps through.

There’s a spark of recognition in Ryoma’s eye and a smirk tugs on the corners of his lips, “Oh, Xander, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Xander presses his lips together and turns his gaze away from Ryoma. He can feel the heat on his face and he knows Ryoma can see it. A part of him hopes that Ryoma thinks it’s a byproduct of the wine, but Xander doesn’t place much faith in that.

Ryoma lets out a chuckle and his thumb begins to trace circles on Xander’s knee, “Prince Xander, jealous of some noblewoman? What has the world come to?”

Xander lets out a something he thinks might be a laugh, but sounds forced even to his ears, “You certainly seemed to be enjoying the conversation.”

“I was being polite. I can assure you that I would have much rather been talking to you.”

“So you say.”

Ryoma leans closer and even if Xander’s eyes are resolutely trained on the crowd, he can practically hear the smile in the other’s voice, “What do you say we get out of here and I can show you just how much I would have preferred talking to you?”

Xander’s eyes snap back to Ryoma. There’s a smirk on his lips and a promise in his eyes. Xander can feel excuses on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them. Instead he places the glass from which he’d drunk nothing onto the table and doesn’t allow himself to regret the words that fall from his lips.

“Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just gonna go sit in a corner and cry. Also, you can totally assume this is one of two parties: one thrown in the Nohrian Capital and one thrown in the Hoshidan capital. It's anyone's guess if I actually write about the other party.


End file.
